


Really Mine

by MistyBeethoven



Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [25]
Category: Replicas (2018)
Genre: Affairs, BBW, Clones, Desire, Desperation, Erotica, F/M, For Adults Only, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Loss of Virginity, Love Stories, Murder, Naked Cuddling, Overweight, Reality, Sad, Sad Ending, Science, Science Fiction, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Sideways sex, Sitting Sex, Virginity, Weight Issues, Wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: "You look so real."With those words William Foster approaches me for the first time. Coming to understand what those words mean, and why they are so important to the man, I find myself falling for the scientist and into a hopeless affair.For William Foster harbors a deadly secret. His perfect family is made of the clones of a wife, two daughters and a son that passed away years ago in a car accident.Now William finds himself hating the perfect little family he has rebuilt and longs for escape. But his wife is possessively jealous and hides a secret all her own...
Relationships: Mona Foster (Replicas) & Me, William Foster (Replicas)/Me, William Foster (Replicas)/Mona Foster
Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589944
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Really Mine

**Author's Note:**

> On to "Replicas"
> 
> I didn't find it a horrible movie. I rather enjoyed it. The problem was with the logic more or less. I don't see how wiping the memory of one child from the other family members would have solved the problem of not bringing her back. Other people surely would have remembered her. :/
> 
> Probably better to have them have just remembered the car crash and think she had died in it but they had all been saved.
> 
> Oh well...
> 
> On to the story...

I met Dr. William Foster in a park on a little island close to Hawaii. Sitting on the bench, I had been trying to keep my mind calm past the worry and anxiety which usually plagued it and was my reason for being on the island in the first place. I was touching my elbow as a warm breeze passed by me, blowing my brown auburnish hair, when a man in his forties or fifties came to sit by my side. He was staring at me in a way which made me uncomfortable. His eyes were dark as was his hair and his body was strong and tall.

"You look so _real_ ," was what he said to me in a deep and somewhat gruff tone.

"Pardon?" I replied not knowing what on earth he meant.

"You look _real_ ," he repeated as if by mere repetition it would ease my confusion.

"Thank you," I stated, not knowing what else to say and then rose to leave.

He grabbed my wrist gently. "Please don't go," he pleaded and his voice sounded rather sad enough to stop me. 

Hesitantly I parked my plump bottom back on the park bench. 

"Would you like to go get something to eat?" he asked.

I looked and finally noticed the ring on his left hand. "You're married," I said. "What would your wife think?" I asked, hating the fact that even though I had just met him that little band of gold made me sad for some reason.

"She's out with the children," he replied.

It was another answer that did not make me feel any less confused or better.

He added hastily as he grabbed my hand and pulled me off from the bench, "Besides the real her is dead and I don't think that one would mind."

I let the presumably mad stranger drag me off for a hot dog and an ice cream cone.

* * *

I guess, I was flattered in a very large way. William Foster, for that was whom I discovered the man was, wasn't ashamed to buy me two well known fatty foods despite my obvious weight problem. Neither did my size embarrass him at all. While I was self conscious about it he just kept looking at me like I was some beautiful creature he had discovered entering his sad little world. I couldn't understand it anymore than I knew what he had meant in regards to his wife being both alive and dead.

"What do you mean that your wife is out with your children but the _real_ her is dead?" I asked.

I must have had ketchup or ice cream running down the corner of my mouth because Will just smiled at me fondly, brought a hand to my chin and wiped it off. "You even _feel_ real," he beamed happily.

I blushed and asked him the question again, hoping now that the food was off of my face he would not get distracted.

"I'm a scientist," he explained casually. "When I was in a car accident with my family they all died but I survived. I brought my wife, two daughters and son back as clones. Would you like another ice cream cone?"

If the man truly was a scientist, I thought, he was surely of the mad variety.

* * *

I escaped my new friend easily enough, making an excuse that I had someone else to meet. I hated the sad little look in his small, brown eyes. In my guilt, I tried to make it all better by setting up a date to meet him again. It made my escape plan all committed in vain but was worth it to see the joy that quickly flooded his face. His smile made him seem younger as opposed to his frown which had made him seem so very tired.

A meeting was arranged for the same park bench but at five o'clock this time three days from now. He told me that Mona and the kids would be out of the house.

"I need to show you proof that all I have told you is true," he said, imploringly.

"But why?" I asked. 

"Because I'm tired of living a lie. I'm tired of fantasy. I want to finally let someone else know the truth and I want you to believe me," William Foster explained.

"But...why me?" I asked.

"Because you are _real_ ," he replied with some emotion close to reverence.

* * *

When I met with William at the allotted time it was with trepidation and hours spent beforehand chastising myself. I was meeting with a madman solely because I was attracted to him. Everything about the man compelled me from his handsome face to his masculine body to the tone of his voice. Yet he was also intelligent despite his questionable sanity and kind. His movements were also unique to him and all of this found me returning to the park bench despite my better judgement.

Finding me sitting there, staring at the hands I was wringing on my almost non existent lap, William Foster greeted me with a "You came."

"Well it's really me and not a clone," I said, feeling very shy and trying to make a joke.

I went to apologize, fearing it had been in poor taste when he grabbed my hand and pulled me off of the park bench. We ran past various people and I soon heard myself laughing because we must have both looked crazy then, the tall, handsome middle aged man dragging his fat female companion past the island's various tourist trappings. I giggled and it must have reached his ears for he turned around and smiled at me again and laughed as if my own was contagious. 

I realized that I was bound to believe him then, when he offered me that boyish and carefree grin, even if I knew every word that he told me was a lie.

* * *

It wasn't though.

What William Foster showed me in the basement of his beautiful and spacious island home convinced me of it.

"This is the pod where a clone takes days to develop," he said, showing me the large container. "You need to make sure that the power supply stays on or the clone will be destroyed. But you also can't keep them in past the set date or they will mature too quickly."

"How much does something like this cost?" I asked in awe, touching the glass.

"About one point seven million," he answered casually as if money meant nothing to him anymore.

He showed me the methods and equipment which he had used to extract his family's memories, or neural maps as he called it. Placing some strange helmet on his head a digital screen showed up in the air and I watched entranced as he maneuvered through it with his hands. The movement of them was smooth and assured; he knew exactly what he was doing and all I really could do was sit back, enjoy the show and admire his motion. 

Finished with his demonstration, he turned to me and asked anxiously, "So do you believe me?"

I nodded and sat on the floor, holding his daughter Zoe's old unicorn doll in my hands. He claimed that he had originally not cloned her till later because there had not been enough pods. Now older than she had been, and starting to forsake her simple toys for makeup and boys, I held on to the abandoned item as I tried to process what he had told me. William came to squat down by me.

"You shouldn't have done it," I whispered. "You aren't God. They were only ever copies like your boss said; no matter how real they seemed."

The scientist flinched but it was only the truth. Just like if you were to take a photo of yourself and made it come alive. The moment it became something separate from you and conceived it's own different thoughts and experiences it could never be you. It was only a desperate soul's attempt at a mortality which was not and could never be the same.

I thought he'd be angry but instead he only agreed, "I know that now."

He brought his hands to my face and caressed my cheeks with his thumbs and I pressed the unicorn closer to my breasts.

"What do you want with me?" I whispered. "Now that you told me? How can I help you?"

Tears fell from my gray-green eyes and he looked in ecstasy as they ran to touch his hands. "Spend time with me. Let me remember what it's like to be with somebody alive and who came into this world the natural way and not by my own design."

I couldn't refuse him. Not when he was looking at me as if his life depended on it. My vacation was over in about two months and I didn't see what it could hurt to spend some time with a desperate soul whom had sinned in a moment of pain and had lived to regret it.

"Okay," I said and Foster kissed my forehead, an act which felt more passionate than it should have.

* * *

During the next few weeks, William and I would meet each other whenever the possibility arose for it. He had the number for the little hotel where I was staying. I felt like a mistress but for those first encounters nothing really happened to feel guilty about. We might as well have been siblings. The things we did were innocent enough: catching a film, having dinner, walking and talking. Often I caught him staring at me and I knew he was thinking again that I seemed so "real."

The question of what that meant began to bother me. Why had I seemed more real to him than everybody else? Was it the fact that I was overweight? Maybe that I never wore makeup or perfume? The former made me feel like I was going to suffocate in an odd way. The latter caused my anxiety to worsen. So I rarely ever showed a face or scent to the world that wasn't my own.

Still when I asked William about it, and if this had attracted him to me, he only smiled. "No...or maybe in a way. It was just you. Other people were never any different than Mona, Sophie or Matt and Zoe to me. But when i saw you sitting on that bench...I don't know...you just seemed real."

I started wondering then if what he really meant was actually synonymous with falling in love at first sight. But with all the man had been through love came out as "real" because that had come to mean more to him than anything else as he lived his now unwanted life with his replicas.

I had touched his bearded cheek then and thought how real he felt and looked to me too.

* * *

About a month into our knowing each other, Will startled me with a rather unusual and intimate request.

"Erin," he said as we sat in his car outside of my hotel room.

He had driven me their and seemed like he desperately did not want to leave me. Not just yet anyway. I had guessed I was about to hear why.

"Can I come inside?" he asked.

"Yes," I agreed.

"Can we lie down and hold each other?"

"Ssssure," I said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Would you mind if we did it without any clothing?"

I was heading out of the car when he grabbed my arm. "I promise I won't do anything to you that you don't want me to. I just want to touch you and hold you. Like you did with Zoe's old unicorn doll. I want honest human contact."

I sat back in the seat.

"But...but I'm not...I'm not beautiful," I turned to look at him and I felt just about ready to cry again. The thought of lying next to William naked, of him seeing my far from perfect body, was terrifying me more than him trying anything did. I was afraid, in fact, that he'd take one look at me and run away before even climbing into the bed.

His hand moved from my arm to my face as the other one found the other side as it had done back in his basement. "You are to me," he stated and rested his forehead against mine.

* * *

Inside the hotel room, William Foster began to strip before I found the strength to. I watched as he sat on the edge of my bed and removed his shoes and socks and then slid out of his pants and tossed them on to the floor. His wallet fell out and opened on the picture of his gorgeous wife. I stared down at her until William saw me, stood and kicked it to the side. He took me in his strong arms and held me as I rested against his chest. He stopped undressing and started to undress me instead. Tears were falling from my eyes again and arousal was the last thing on my mind or between my legs as he progressed. When he removed my shirt it was humiliating but he rubbed my stomach to calm me. I was even more afraid when the bra came off but even my large but non perky breasts didn't seem to repulse him as I had feared.

He studied me for a while before smiling and holding my trembling body again. "See that's not so bad, is it?"

I kissed the skin of his chest against my face and then felt guilt surge through me. He was married.

Or was he?

His first wife had died; now he lived with a clown of the woman he had vowed to love until death. But death had already come. It was too confusing and it quickly flew from my mind as the man's hands went to my underwear and pulled them down, following them until he was on his knees before me.

"Step out of them," he instructed and I did, aware of his head so close to my crotch.

Throwing the underwear in his hands to the side, William stood and I watched him continue to strip as I stood naked, gradually accepting the fact that he wasn't running for the door. As William removed his clothing, I saw him exposed before me, his beautiful cock semi-hard and his full balls beneath them. I saw the scar on his stomach and liked his long body which was half muscular and half not. Then the sexual stirring began, especially as we stood facing one another as naked as Adam and Eve before their damning fall.

"On the bed," he softly instructed.

I lay down, the pressure building in my most private of areas. William Foster than began to touch me. Exploring hands slid over my large body as his lips followed afterwards. Kissing had not been in his description but I did not object. I was becoming more and more excited. When he raised my right leg and started to kiss where my thigh met my vulva I climaxed, the pleasure and excitation having grown too much. Feeling my body spasming under his touch, he must have noticed the liquid spilling from my crevice, for I felt it cooling on my exposed skin, but did not comment or stop in his exploration that never crossed over the line to full out intercourse. Even though the glimpses I took of his now swollen penis told me that he could have taken me if he wanted to.

After he was finished we simply held each other on the bed, his erection against my stomach and my vagina prepared for its entrance and only frustrated when it never came.

For we only held each other that afternoon.

And many of the others that followed it.

* * *

William no longer wished to run around the island with me. He was content to retreat to my hotel room where we would repeat our act of lying naked in an embrace that longed to become sexual but could not find the bravery to cross that line.

"I'm a virgin," I told him once as he played with my right nipple, making it appear from its hiding place.

"I thought so," he said, kissing my cheek. "Any particular reason?"

"I want it to be real," I said, using his favorite word. "I want the man to really love me. I want to really love him back."

Another afternoon found him describing once again how the first seed of discontentment grew.

"It was good at the start," he confessed as my hands fondled his balls, caressing and pulling gently on their fragile flesh as my knuckles occassionally brushed against the base of his cock. "Then I started to feel that it wasn't right...I realized that they weren't real...that my real family was lying dead somewhere and I was left with only really good replicas of them. I couldn't make love to the second Mona anymore without rushing to the bathroom and throwing up."

I kissed the side of his neck but that was as far as we went that time. 

It was several days later we finally crossed the line. We were only holding each other as we lay side by side, not even speaking. He was squeezing my breast again so sweetly as I played with his balls until my hand suddenly rose to stroke his erect penis. My fingers became wet and I knew he was aching for that touch, had been for weeks. William's head went back and he moaned deeply as I rubbed his weeping organ's slitted head. 

I hoisted my leg to rest on his, pushing my body slightly upwards, and William's hand came to aid me in the endeavor. His fingertips trailed lightly on the underside of my thigh, sliding around to cup my rear. We kissed gently then with one simple motion he was inside of me before I even realized it, other than a tearing sensation and a burst of pain. I couldn't help a small whimper from exiting and he kissed me passionately, trying to overpower it with his ardor. It worked and my mind and body relaxed from the desire he proved to me with his lips.

Not knowing what else to do I started to grind against his crotch and he thrusted, knowing it was safe now: the pain had passed. The pleasure of him sliding inside of me was nothing I had ever known. My canal welcomed every inch of him and clenched hungrily every now and then as he went as far as my womb.

Feeling close to orgasm I suddenly felt shy as I looked down and felt my large tummy flattened against his. "I'm so big. I'm sorry," I stated breathlessly.

"Don't apologize," he mumbled as his lips found my breasts, my throat my shoulders.

"I must feel...sooo...unhhh...so gross."

"No you only feel _real_ ," he said as he bit my earlobe and then kissed my forehead, his arm tracing under my right butt cheek and then grabbing it lustfully.

I cried out as he gave a forceful thrust and I came, biting his neck as my cry was repeated over and over again with each new spasm.

* * *

Afterwards, William dressed. Looking at himself in the dresser mirror, me naked behind him, I stared at the welt I had given him on his neck. I suddenly regretted that impulsive act more than having given myself to him. His seed was still drying on my legs and I could not hate myself for loving and making love with the man whom had been in my arms. I did hate that I had left evidence on his neck, though, for the clone of his wife to see.

"I'm so stupid. She'll see; she'll know," I reprimanded myself, resting my head against his beautiful back.

"Erin I cloned three human beings; you honestly think I can't hide a hickey?" he stated in bemusement.

I giggled and kissed his shirt. William Foster did one better: he spun around and kissed me on my lips that quickly set free another laugh.

* * *

Afternoons were now spent inside of my hotel room with William inside of me as well. We made love and dreamt of escaping together. I was to leave the next day and it was decided that the scientist would join me, a fact which overjoyed us both. 

"I'll just get on the plane with you and we'll leave together," he said as his head rested on my shoulder.

We were sitting on the bed, unclothed, my legs wrapped around him as his were wrapped around me as well. He was deep inside of me, had been for close to an hour, our lovemaking, slow and deliberate. As he said the words plotting our departure, he gave a few more violent movements and I clawed his back from my overwhelming pleasure, rubbing against him. 

The marks would be harder for him to conceal. Still he had confessed to me that he had stopped sleeping with Mona when we had finally become lovers. He hated the thought of placing his member inside of his artificial wife and then me. He said this was a horrible sin to him: to taint my real body with anything fake.

"You really want _me_?" I asked fearing that once he was free of the island he'd want somebody else instead.

He took his hands off of my ass, which he had been clutching to help in his pushing, and brought them to my face. I bit my lip and stared into the depths of the brown eyes staring lovingly into mine.

"When will you ever understand? I want _you_. I've seen a hundred different women, Erin, but you were the only one I wanted to be with when I escaped from the Hell I made. You are really mine. I am really yours...I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered and then kissed him.

It was the first time we had ever said those words outloud.

And it was the last time that we ever kissed.

* * *

On the day we were set to leave, William was to meet me at the hotel but he never came. Instead of going to meet my plane, I followed my sense of unease back to the house which my lover shared with his duplicated family. The sky was cloudy above me as much of an omen as anything else.

I paid the cab driver and walked towards the house in horrible unease.

The door was opened and I stepped inside, foolishly calling out the name of the man I loved incase his children or wife heard.

In the living room, I found my sweet William. He was lying on the floor with a bullet wound in his back. The same brown eyes I had seen only the day before, alive and looking at me with love, were now blank and unseeing.

I wanted to say his name but a cry came out instead and I went to him and held him as I had often held him in our bed; only this time he could not hold me back.

"I'm really sorry he got you involved in this whole mess," a voice said behind me and I felt my heart racing even past the large fracture in its center. Mona Foster stepped out carrying a gun. "It really wasn't right."

"You didn't have to kill him," I hissed at her. "You could have just let him leave."

"That was impossible," the blonde stated matter of factly. "He belongs to us: the children and me. To just let him go was unthinkable."

"He didn't belong to you," I retaliated. "He was real you aren't!"

"Is that right?" Mona asked and knelt in front of me. "Who do you think it is that you are holding in your arms?"

I didn't like the look in her eyes or the sense of disquiet settling over me. She obviously knew some secret that was causing the smug smile on her pretty face.

"William Foster," I answered, my blood running cold.

She shook her head, her blonde tresses bouncing as she stood. "The real William Foster died three years ago. He couldn't stand the lie any longer. I found him in the bathroom bleeding all over the tiles. He'd told me enough about the process though...I made another...and then another...and finally that one you are holding now."

My heart was in my throat now and I was shaking so badly I think I earned the woman's unintentional pity.

"He always ends up wanting to leave us. I knew enough of how to erase his death from the original neural map but erasing the memory of us being clones from out of his memory is too dangerous. And that is always what drives him crazy and makes him want to escape."

I was crying now, rocking back and forth, my tears falling into the replica William Foster's hair.

Mona looked at me with so much horrible sympathy she was moved to confess something that obviously wounded her too. "If it's any comfort you are the only person he ever tried to escape with. He must have really loved you...and for a man that thought he was God like William did that wasn't always easy for him."

I looked down at my lover's face and brushed the brown hair from out of it. I thought of this poor version of William Foster growing inside of the same pod he had shown to me, oblivious to the fact that he had been created inside of it. Images of his rapid growth filled my mind, the body I had let be the first to enter me, and had kissed every inch of, rushing towards unnaturally quick maturity. But even if he had not known that he was unreal, and that the life he had thought he had lived had really belonged to another, I suddenly realized that our time together had, at least, been our own and genuine. Not one second or hour had belonged to anybody but us. This William had loved me and I had loved him just as truly.

"I'm sorry about this," Mona stated as she raised the gun at me and prepared to shoot.

"Wait!" I said. "I just want one thing."

She hesitated, looking hopelessly curious. 

"When I'm dead, bury me with this William...or scatter what remains of us together in the same place."

Mona Foster looked confused as she tried to figure out why I was asking for this one last thing instead of begging for my life. "Why? He wasn't even the real William Foster!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," I replied. "But he was _really_ mine," I exclaimed as I brought my lips to his cooling forehead and kissed it tenderly.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I think that proved that I'm not only going for wish fulfillment with these things but for varied stories and where ever those stories may take me. Just as long as it features a Keanu Reeves character and myself.
> 
> This is neither here nor there but...
> 
> If I had been an actress (those dreams about died when I realized I was too hopelessly shy and overweight to give it a fair go) I have two book adaptations I would have liked to have been in with Mr. Reeves.
> 
> First off, Stephen King's "Rose Madder" with Keanu as Norman and me as Rose. Odd choice but there's the extreme low point of love right there: a truly bad relationship. I think I could pull off Rose well and I know Keanu would make a killer Norman if given half a chance.
> 
> Second off, another King adaption, this time "Lisey's Story" which I hear is being made with Julianne Moore and Clive Owen. Keanu as Scott and me as Lisey. This is the opposite of "Rose Madder," love at its highest point, and possibly Stephen's finest and most tender love story. I'd love to have done that with Keanu.
> 
> Those two there would have been my wishes because they show love at its ultimate worst and supreme best. I like the idea of the couple being portrayed by the same two performers. It will never be Keanu and I but it's still a good idea. :/
> 
> If I was choosing younger characters, since this is just daydreaming, I would go for extremes again. Twisted: Cate/Jim in Joe Hill's "Buttonboy: A Love Story" and Sweet: Tom/Polly in Louisa May Alcott's "An Old Fashioned Girl."
> 
> There's one role I know Keanu Reeves would have been perfect for but it won't happen here because it would be impossible. Oh well. Maybe in Heaven any actor will get the chance to tackle any role they ever wanted. It would be an acting program to die for! Literally. :/
> 
> I pray that Mr. Reeves won't be enrolled into it for a very long time!


End file.
